Page 11 of Through the Wicked Wood

He settled himself on the large tree stump by the firepit. “I can’t make you trust me. But I can trust you as a show of good faith.” Nothing but the noises of the forest floated between us for a moment as Sorin let his words suspend in the air. “You take the lead,” he continued, “after we stop in my village, we follow your lead to the mountain. We can help each other, Elora. I don’t know about you, but I think the fact we ended up in each other’s company is more than just a coincidence.”

I weighed the benefits of leaving the woods. The possibilities. I weighed the benefits of staying. I’ve lost so much, or rather, had so much stolen from me the past few years. My family. My life. All at the hands of King Roman and his thirst for power. For a magick he could never possess on his own. Maybe it’s time to stop running. Stop hiding. Time to take a stand. To fight. For my mother. For myself. For any other Enchantress who has ever felt less than. For the people who are dying at the hands of an enraged deity, if what Sorin says is true.

“What do you mean, we?” I sputtered, loosening my grip on the doorframe to turn slightly and face him.

Sorin laughed quietly. “We’ll need a crew of course. Think of them as an extension of myself. If you can trust me, you can trust them. We have a long way to Kirsgard, and we’ll need the resources.” His voice was weary, no doubt tired after today’s events. “So, what do you say? Do you trust me?”

I let a few minutes of silence pass between us.“I trust you.” My voice wavered, and I wasn’t entirely sure if I meant what I said. At least not right now, but maybe I could. Sorin’s eyes met mine through the darkness, and for a moment, he said nothing. All I could hear was the sound of my own breathing. My own heartbeat quickening.

“And I you,” he said through a muffled yawn. “Now, you should get some rest, we’ll be leaving before dawn.” He moved to settle on the ground next to the firepit, rolling to his side, facing away from me.

Entering my cabin, I collapsed onto my bed. The weight of today crashed upon my body and mind. A heavy weight full of burden and grief pulled down on my bones. The guards. The wolves. The thief. And now the possibility of the Stones. The possibility that maybe I could help in some way. Right even just one of my many, many wrongs. Curling myself into a ball surrounded by darkness, I wept myself to sleep.

With everything I value strapped to my body, I give one final look to my cabin. My eyes prick with tears, but I quickly brush them off. Whispering a quiet thank you to the woods I leave the rest behind. I don’t allow myself to linger because if I do, I will find a hundred reasons to stay. But the one reason to leave outweighs all the rest.

Hope.

“We’ll make a stop in Copenspire, find some horses. That’ll get us to the village by day’s end tomorrow,” Sorin says as he paces behind me. I made it a point earlier to lead once in the ravine to get us through as quickly as possible. Glancing over my shoulder I shoot him an amused expression.

“And by find, you mean steal?” I ask. “We made a pact to tell the truth, remember, no sense in padding what you actually mean now.” I continue forward but can hear him huff a short laugh as he closes the distance behind me.

“Fair enough,” he says. “Yes, we’ll steal them. But trust me in this, we need them more than the guards do. They spend most of their nights in that bloody pub senselessly gambling away their coin like they have an endless supply.”

The grin that spreads across my face feels unnatural, and yet, I can’t stop it. “Ah, yes. The guards. That brings me to my next question,” I say, stopping to take a quick drink of water from a babbling stream. “Just how many shillings did you acquire to warrant the chase of two royal guards through The Ravine of No Mercy?”

Sorin laughs again. “I’ll have you know, love, I won those shillings practically fair and square.”

I bark out a laugh, the unexpected noise making me jump. “Practically?”

“More or less.” Sorin laughs as we trudge uphill into the densest part of the ravine. “I can’t stand to see those smug pricks blowing their coin while others starve in the streets.” Catching up to me now, we keep pace with each other as we crest over the hill. He continues, “I only meant to stop in Copenspire for the night. I was on my way back from a meeting with fishing merchants on the Galdosa. We work closely, the merchants and my village.

“Anyway, I got word of a lively card game happening at the local pub with several of the royal guards. Being the opportunist that I am, I couldn’t shy away from a chance to line my pockets while draining theirs. The guards didn’t see my hand coming, they went all in, end of story.”

Nodding my head, I try to keep the smile that twitches on my lips concealed. Leading us over a large fallen pine and down the riverbank to the water’s edge, I take a moment to appreciate the sunrise. Deep pinks and oranges streak the sky, casting a glow to the hillside. It won’t be long before the sprites are awake, and after yesterday, I want nothing more than to avoid the nasty beings. Shuffling down the rocky hillside, we’re met with a low rumbling of white rapids. The Galdosa River greets us with a shiver of cold.

“I’ve never understood gambling,” I say between shuffles. “My friend, from back home, enjoyed it as well when we still lived in Valebridge. My mother, too, for that matter. Can’t say my friend excelled at it though. He was always losing more than he could afford, but enjoyed it nonetheless.” The memory brings a smile to my face. I can picture Cade pouting when he’d lost another shilling or two in a round of cards. My mother shaking her head as if there was anyone else to blame but himself. I realize I’ve let my smile linger when Sorin’s eyes sweep over my face. Quickly changing my disposition, I point toward the path that leads directly to the river and steer us away from the hillside.

At the water’s edge, Sorin stops to roll up his breeches, slinging his boots over his shoulders in an attempt to keep them dry. He takes the first step into the water, then another and another. I take a moment to look back at the ravine before heading into the water. This feels like a final goodbye, as if this journey will never lead me back here. My heart sinks with the realization. These woods have become my home. My sanctuary after so much loss. But if there is even a small chance the Stones still remain, I remind myself, I have to go. To find them and honor the Mother. To honor my mother.

“Are you coming?” Sorin shouts, standing a few steps in the water. I shoot him a narrowed gaze as I begin to unlace my boots. “Must you always scowl?” Sorin asks playfully, kicking at the water with one foot.

“That depends,” I say, crossing my arms and joining him near the river. “Must you always speak?”

The river is crisp on my skin and the rocks are slippery beneath my feet making it a difficult trek across. Once on the other side, a crow caws in the distance. I search the skies before it flies into sight. Landing on the opposite side of the river, it perches on a piece of misshapen driftwood. Its eyes meet mine across the water for a brief moment, but long enough to have me second guessing what I see. The bird’s eyes are different from any other crow I’ve seen, but with the great distance between us, I cannot make out the color.

A passive smile takes over my face, quickly replaced with a feeling of sorrow. This is it. No turning back. I muster all my strength before I reluctantly turn from the crow and the river. Turning from the ravine, a whisper of a howl dances along the trees. My heart races, but I pay the wolves no mind as I follow Sorin into Copenspire.

* * *

Entering Copenspire always feels like entering a different world, a busy contrast from the quiet of the Trinity Forest. While calm during the off seasons of Autumn and Winter, Spring and Summer has the town bustling with different shops and patrons. The Summer season is coming to an end, but the merchant ships are still docked, not yet departing on their voyage to trade the goods they’ve purchased. I pull my cloak’s hood up and mask my eyes as we make our way in and out of the small alleys that are woven into the port city.

Coming to a stop between two stone buildings, I glance up to take in the massive structure. On the larger of the two, a thick group of ivy grows up the walls, gathering densely towards the top, skirting on either side and wrapping over the small windows. The breeze carries a hint of the ocean, mixed with the freshness of the foliage. The alley between the two buildings is still shadowed despite the sun’s unforgiving glare.

“So, what’s your plan exactly?” I ask, risking a glance at the opening at the end of the alley. “I don’t even see any horses.”

“Just wait,” Sorin says as he holds a hand up toward me. Tapping my foot in equal parts impatience and anxiousness, we wait. Minutes drag until the faint chime of a church bell rings in the distance. Once, twice, three times the bell chimes a deep, low ring that echoes through the square. Like clockwork, the sound of hoofs click-clack against the cobbled stone on the street at the end of the alley. A beautiful cream mare with a golden mane comes into view in the small opening. I suck in a sharp breath as a royal guard shifts atop the horse. The hilt of his blade reflects in the sunlight, sending a bright beam of light into the shadows where we’re hidden. The sudden realization of Sorin’s plan crashes into me.

“You can’t be serious,” I whisper, cutting him an icy glare. He returns my glare with a smirk, his cheek dimpling causing my frustration to grow even further. Of course, he’s serious. Turning myself, I rest my back against the wall of the larger building. “Your plan is to steal a horse from a royal guard knowing what I am and what they will do to me if we get caught?” I ask, fiddling with my daggers. Sorin shrugs and my eyes drift to the opening where the guard is still perched atop his horse. “What could possibly go wrong,” I mumble.

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